Dream play

HOW IS WHAT'S HAPPENING IN MY LIFE LIKE A DREAM?

When I haven't recalled a dream, I like to ask myself that question. Then, I observe what happens as I go about my day. You'd be surprised at the frequency of "dream-like" happenings that break through into "waking life". This reminds me that the veil between the worlds is very thin.

I witnessed a dream-like day being lived by Hannah, a woman attending a workshop at the OMEGA CENTRE a few weeks back. Most people come to the centre to further their learning on a specific topic or for R&R. Many, like myself, have been reading about, studying or applying the techniques that is the  topic of their chosen workshop, but not Hannah.

I first met her when I went for lunch with 2 other participants from Robert Moss' SHAMANIC LUCID DREAMING dream group. The workshop had finished that morning and we were lingering, wanting to squeeze out the last bit of inspiration from the gathering and share more of our life and dream experiences. We descended upon a table occupied by one person (this would be Hannah), who graciously allowed us to share the space with her.

She listened intently and even joined in on the conversation by asking questions. When I asked her what she was here for she said she wasn't sure. She wasn't on R&R exactly as she'd half-heartedly signed up for a workshop of which she had little, if any, prior knowledge. I found this both bewildering AND fascinating.

After some time we all reluctantly dispersed with hugs and words of appreciation and bid each other fare well.

As I sat at a dinner table in the dining hall that same night (I stayed the extra night to give myself some down time before making the 9 hr drive back home) in walked Hannah with a "friend" who she'd just met. The woman was a Shamanic practitioner here to attend a SHAMANIC workshop with John Perkins. Again Hannah listened in on a lively discussion between myself and the Shamanic practitioner. We went our separate ways: I to the library to research Perkins' writing and later to the bookstore to purchase one of his books; the "friend" to her workshop and, because Hannah wasn't sure if her workshop was starting that night, she headed out on a mission to find out what was happening.

The next morning, as I sat talking with another of Robert's students who'd also taken an extra day for R&R, Hannah appeared again. And once more she took a seat and proceeded to listen in on our conversation. Her workshop hadn't started the previous night but was to begin after brekkie. She seemed ambivalent, not at all excited about it and said that she was told that she could switch workshops if she wanted.

"If this was my experience", I said, using a dreamwork technique, "It would seem that I was meant to take the Shamanic workshop. After all, of all of the people that you could come across in the dining room at OMEGA 3 times in a row you ended up at tables where all we talked about was Shamanism. Every one of us has studied and participated in a Shamanic workshop. There were 3 at your table yesterday afternoon, 2 last night and now the 2 of us. This adds up to the number of karmic return so, if it were me I'd go to that one for sure!"

I don't know if Hannah changed over to the Shamanic workshop or even showed up for the one she'd initially signed up for. For all I know she decided to hang out, visit with other guests (most likely she'd end up at a "shamanic" table anyway) and get a little R&R. Whatever she did was right for her. But man it seemed as if the universe was doing its darndest to get her attention.

How was this experience like a dream for me, you might ask. In my dream of this experience (Hannah) I was a little like a sleep-walker unconsciously drifting through life while opportunity for awakening is knocking at my door, not once but 3 times. Do I follow its lead? Only time will tell. Where will it take me? Only time will tell that too :)

TOMORROW play in the field of dreams by asking HOW IS WHAT'S HAPPENING IN MY LIFE LIKE A DREAM.

Journey into parallel lives

He stands with his back to me. At six feet tall, wearing a crisp white lab coat, he is an impressive figure. He says I can call him Jacob, it's as good a name as any. He knows it is a name that appeals to me as it seems to belong to one who possesses a mysterious presence.

He smiles at how easily impressed I am with this task he performs so effortlessly. For what does it take really to hold space when one has been doing it all their life? He cannot remember a time when it wasn't always so.

I walk around to his right to get a better view of what he has devoted his life to. Test tubes like vials float in the air in front of him. From a distance they give the appearance of a massive church organ, staggered as they are at varying heights and distances. The mass seems alive.

At a closer view I see that he is monitoring the progress of liquid dripping into each vial from invisible spigots. Vials appear and once filled disappear seemingly at random. They are unmarked with no distinguishing features and the liquid is clear, silvery and crystalline-pure.

I understand that, suspended in other places and other times, dreaming bodies have embarked on journeys. And, though Jacob stands before me he is also a physical presence, monitoring each of them as well. These people are, from the point of reference of my time, advanced beings who have chosen to journey to bathe in "healing waters" in order to gather healing wisdom-energy for their less advanced self/selves.

Jacob makes them visible to me now and I observe their physical bodies resting for a half an hour at the most. Yet the bathers experience is of hours or days; sometimes months or years floating and drifting.

Suddenly Jacob transports me to the next level; the place of "gathering". Jacob is there too as a constant presence, overseeing the progress of each of the dream bodies. A more subtle, shimmering image of each dreaming body walks into the waters, then submerges, becoming one with the healing waters as their molecules mingle. In this way they absorb that which is healing for the particular needs of their lineage. There is an infinite number of bathers forming, dispersing and re-forming creating a sparkling dance of light before my very eyes.

How the essence they process from the healing waters is transported into the vials is an unexplained mystery; the drops of essence magically appear and drip into the appropriate vial.

Once their task is complete Jacob guides the "shimmerings" back into their suspended dream body which then journeys to rejoin its corporeal form in the material realm. The person later awakens, feeling glowingly refreshed.

Jacob explains that when a more dense, lesser advanced, earthbound soul needs a healing and cries out for help, it is he who hears their pleas. And it is he who matches the resonance of the essence with the intended receiver; administering the appropriate dosage in the form of a "wisdom moment". The knowing that has been delivered is absorbed, in some cases immediately, in others, over time. The process of healing is complete when the absorbed essence manifests as "right" action.

Jacob is pleased to be a part of this moment in time in which science is married to spirit as he knows it hasn't always been this way.

We're all but frogs in a well

A number of years ago I was fortunate enough to attend a presentation given by Dr. Robert Svaboda titled "Spirituality or Psychosis?" (a subject near and dear to the hearts of many meditators and yoga practitioners) at a yoga centre in Toronto. Svaboda is a riveting and entertaining speaker and he told a story about a frog in a well which goes something like this...

There once was a frog who lived in the bottom of an abandoned well with a lot of other frogs happily going about their little frog lives. As days and nights passed the light coming in from the top of the well revealed to them all they needed to know about where they lived and who they were. When they looked up at the sky they recognized familiar changes. They saw the passage of the moon and stars, the sun and clouds; of night and day. Now and then branches blew into view sometimes bare, at other times decorated with blossoms or leaves, some of which would drop down into their abode and provide an exceptionally tasty treat, especially if accompanied by resident bugs.

Then, one day, a young boy discovered the well and being in need of a drink lowered the bucket and scooped up some water...and our little friend along with it.
The frogs gazing up from down below noticed an eclipse as the bucket filled the sky and then it passed. The old ones said this had only happened once or twice before in their lifetimes.
The little frog riding in the bucket on it's way up the well, gazed in awe as the hole, that was the sky, grew bigger and bigger until the sides of the bucket were only a slim rim around it. Then the sky grew dark and he closed his eyes in fright as it squeezed around him. He heard sounds he'd never in his life heard before, smelt smells other than mud and musty water and felt the pressure of the soft warmth around his body being withdrawn. When he opened his eyes he was surrounded by sky and all the things that it contained.

He came to live with the little boy for a time and from his vantage point in his custom decorated glass aquarium witnessed (though we all know the lifestyle of a typical pet frog) more of the world than he could ever have imagined. Until one day, thinking our little friend might be lonely for his past life, the boy went back to the well. He gently placed his now older and wiser friend into the bucket, lowered it down and released him back to his "hood".

The little frog's eyes took time to adjust to the dimness of the light. The sudden change left him a little disoriented so he sat there silently for a while.

"Hey, isn't that Ralphie?", said one frog to another.
"What?"
"You know, the guy who disappeared one day."

For the first time in a long time he heard sounds in his own native tongue. And as his vision cleared, he saw that he was surrounded by others of his kind and though they stood back from him at a distance he was thrilled to see all their familiar froggy faces.

"Where were you dude?" asked one "We looked all over for you but when we couldn't find you we figured you'd been taken by a snake."

Our little friend began to excitedly tell them of his great adventure.

"Do you know that the sky is huge?" he said, spreading his forelegs out wider and wider.
Looking up at the tiny circle of light way above them they replied, "No way! Ummm mmm. It's not, it's small".
"And that there are places where there is no water at all. There are beings who don't hop...well, they can if they want to but it's usually just the younger ones that do; most of them don't want to. And, they have only 2 legs, not 4 though they have 2 other limbs that are sort of like legs but not really. And....", he spoke, barely taking time for a breath as he was bursting to tell them of all that there was "out there".
They listened silently while casting sideways, horrified glances at each other as it became unspokenly obvious to all of them that Ralphie had clearly lost his mind.

"No, no. It's all true. I swear," he protested as he was dragged away to a place where he could recover his sanity.
When he ceased to speak of: a sky that surrounded them, creatures that walked, dryness and the sensation of warmth and such; when he went about daily matters and sat in the muck looking up at the sky like the rest of them they knew he had been cured. But, he knew he was just playing the game while waiting for the bucket to return.

(The gist of the story is his, the elaborations are mine. My apologies to Dr. Svaboda for putting my spin on your story).

*     *     *

This weekend I'll be attending THE WAY OF THE TEACHER a workshop in Shamanism with Sharon Van Raalte. We'll be leaving CR (aka consensus reality) and riding the bucket into NOR (non-ordinary reality) which has me recalling this delightful tale.

I've also been recalling a talk by a lovely animation instructor called TOM (sorry I don't remember his last name at the moment though I think it was Tom Halley) who had been an animator on the Beatles film THE YELLOW SUBMARINE (I was a student at the International Summer School of Animation at Sheridan from 1986 - 88) given to our first year class of animators.

He said that people are in awe of artists because we provide a sorely needed service for humanity. We can go "way out there and come back and bring the most amazing experiences with us to share with those who can't go venturing for themselves". He believed that we have the ability to show others a fuller spectrum of reality, broaden peoples' minds and in expanding their view of what is possible create the foundation for more possibility to manifest in the world around us. He was excited about the journeys we were about to embark upon as novice animators and story tellers.  He saw us as forerunners of possibility. "Many people are afraid to do what we have the ability to do", he said, "because they fear they won't come back or will come back maladjusted".

My unspoken responses to his comments were:

How much questionable substances he'd ingested during his work on the Beatles project?

Was he ingesting any now? As I'd never met someone with such a sense of childlike wonder nor had I been viewed with the awe that one reserves for astronauts and the like.

What the heck am I getting into?

But deep inside there was also a flicker of a feeling in my gut that he was absolutely right, which has been confirmed by my life experiences in CR and NOR since then.

These many years later, I have learned that all you have to do is remember:

1. where you are at all times
2. the rules of the game in each territory
3. speak the language of each realm or else others will think you're nuts

And a weird thing is that now with the possibility that E doesn't = MC squared we could all just be blown out of the well.

A tale of 2 Lilac Bushes

This lovely lilac clipping doesn't look like much, but it is just what I was longing for on Thursday as I was walking, in downtown Oakville, past someone's lush, overflowing, deliciously fragrant lilac bush. But, because the blossoms were on private property all I could do was bury my nose in the clumps of flowers overhanging the wrought iron fence and commit their scent to memory so that I might indulge in it throughout the day.

Later that night I took part in a Shamanic Journeying Circle in a co-op community centre located in a funky downtown Toronto neighbourhood. All in all there were about 21 of us ranging from very experienced to relative newbies. It was my first time journeying with this lovely group of gentle people.

As tradition has it, an altar is set up in the centre of the circle where participants may place objects of power, offerings, photographs, etc to be imbued with the collective intentions of the journeys and the vibrations of the drum, rattle, song and story.

As people entered,  the altar took form. One of the last items to be placed was a bouquet of lilac blossoms freshly picked and offered to us all at the completion of the evening's work. So, my desire for a small sprig to take home was satisfied. Not only that but, I had a paper cup left over from my coffee in which to carry it securely in my car on the trip home to Burlington.

Its scent has graced our living room since then and every time I get a whiff I'm reminded that the universe does indeed support us.

The "lilac" lady also offered up some Lindt chocolates (the little individually wrapped balls of truffles - my faves) but I can't really pronounce that a synchronic happening as I'm pretty much always thinking of chocolate. It was, however, a treat that I certainly didn't turn down.

A very happy drive home was had that night as I savoured the dark chocolate melting in my mouth, the lilac sprig's scent filling my nostrils and the music of the drum, the rattle, song and stories sounding in my brain and vibrating in my cells.